This is what home smells like
by Svenja The Strange
Summary: Set after "Catching Fire". Katniss finally realizes how much Peeta really means to her and decides to tell him. Rated M for possible later Chapters. You never know. ;-)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything and I am not earning any money with this (I wish I would, though.). Suzanne Collins does. Quite a lot, I would presume.

**Note:** I recently read the Hunger Games Trilogy and became a little obsessed with the star-crossed lovers from District 12, who weren't really lovers at all until in the end, when they finally were. Although I am working on my own first novel, I just couldn't concentrate on anything but the fact how Katniss bugged me because the girl would just not notice that she was totally in love with Peeta! I mean, seriously, who wasn't halfway throughout book one? So I just had to get this out of my system! :-D

The following story picks up in the end of book two, just before Peeta was abducted, because after that, things between Katniss and Peeta really started to go downhill. Besides, there was too much killing of people and peoples' sanity in "Mockingjay" so I'm just going to ignore it and find another ending. Not that I don't totally love S. Collins book, but after "Catching Fire" I felt Peeta and Katniss had already been through enough! After all, Joss Whedon was right, when he said:

"**There's a time and place for everything, and I believe it's called 'fan fiction'."**

**Chapter One**

_I'm sorry, Peeta,_ I think. _I'm sorry I couldn't save you._ Save him? More likely I stole his last chance at life, condemned him, by destroying the force field. Maybe, if we had all played by the rules, they might have let him live.

The hovercraft materializes above me without warning. If it was quiet, and a mockingjay perched close at hand, I would have heard the jungle go silent and then the bird's call that precedes the appearance of the Capitol's aircraft. But my ears could never make out anything so delicate in this bombardment.

The claw drops from the underside until it's directly overhead. The metal talons slide under me. I want to scream, run, smash my way out of it but I'm frozen, helpless to do anything but fervently hope I'll die before I reach the shadowy figures awaiting me above. They have not spared my life to crown me victor but to make my death as slow and public as possible.

_The Hunger Games: Catching Fire, page 458-459 by Suzanne Collins_

I prepare to fight a last and desperate fight. If they are going to kill me, I will at least go down taking some of them with me. Although I am determined to be strong for one last time, tears well up in my eyes, making my sight swim and blur. For a second the outlines of people come into sight, before I sense something coming up behind me. After a strong, sharp pain on the back of my head, the world grows dark and I feel nothing.

The darkness stays at first when I regain consciousness, only becomes less thick and impenetrable. I can hear a low distant humming around me, and the blackness before my eyes fades to a dark grey, with moving flecks of a brighter shade. Somehow I can't yet find the strength to force my eyelids open so I keep lying still, listening to the humming in my head and trying to regain the memory of what happened and how I got here. For what seems like a long time, all I can remember is the morning of the reaping and how prettily the sun broke in the branches of the trees as I strode through the woods, hunting for game. My head starts hurting, badly, as slowly but surely, the events of that day come back to me. The reaping, Prim's name on Effie Trinket's lips. _I volunteer! I volunteer as a tribute._ Then the boy: _Peeta Melaark_. The name seems to hit a raw spot in my brain because within a heartbeat everything, the games, the pretend, the victory, the nightmares, the silence between us, the victory tour, the nights in his arms, the games all over again, comes back to me. It hurts so much now, I feel I can't take it and now it is not just my head.

Slowly, the humming around me gets louder as I try, try my hardest, to just open my eyes and finally wake from this daze I am stuck in. Then suddenly, I manage and the humming makes way for an earsplitting silence. My heart is hammering against my chest as I sit up too abruptly and stare into the room around me.

Two things I notice at once. I am in a hospital, wires and drain tubes coming out machines and into my body. The second is that Gale is sitting next to my bed, sunken into his chair and obviously fast asleep. The next thoughts my mind can forms are: _I am not dead. The arena blew up, but I got rescued. They did not kill me after that._ Then, and this has me on shaky, weak feet within seconds, ignoring all the cables in me, _Where is Peeta? I am here, but where is he? It was my dying wish, my only mission: keep Peeta alive. Haymitch and I had a deal._

"Katniss!" Gales voice is full of joy. His second shout tells me he does not approve of my sudden mobility. "Katniss! Lay down!" Quickly he is up on his feet and gently trying to push me back on the bed again as I give my beast to fight back with a swimming head and _his _name on the tip of my tongue, that seems to just not work as I'm used to yet. I try several times, before it comes out, inarticulate and almost incoherent.

"Peeta!"

"Katniss, please, just don't get up, okay? I will get a doctor. Please stay!" I hear Gale pleading. His hands are stretched out over me, as though to keep me down, but I think he's not actually touching me. I would have felt touching because obviously I am not paralyzed or anything. Good, I think. My mind is starting to run a tad more smoothly. It's strange, feeling myself coming back into me like that. A thousand questions crash in on my mind but there is one thing, clear above all, one thing I have to ask.

"Did I do it? Is Peeta alive?" I see the hurt look in his face, but I am far from caring about his scarred pride.

"He is that important to you, huh? That you ask for him before you ask for your mother or Prim?" _Is he?_ I feel a pang of guilt knotting my guts and turning my stomach. Of course I want to see my mother and Prim. Her most of all, but I left them as safe as they could ever be back home in District 12 when I left to fight in the Games for a second time. _He_ was with me then, and I vowed to myself to keep him safe. "I had a mission. I wanted to keep him alive." I say irritated at the fact that Gale won't answer my question and a horrible thought creeps into my mind. "Is he dead?"

"No, he is not. He's fine. Rest for a minute, I'll get a doctor. You've been out for a long time."

"Gale, wait!" I call as loudly as my pounding head allows me. "Tell me what happened!"

He pauses in his steps, though I can see only reluctantly and while still looking at the door as if he hopes for a doctor to rush in any moment. But now that the first wave of fear for Peetas live has receded a little, other questions demand to be answered and there's no way I'm letting Gale get anyone before I know what happened and whether I am safe or have to fear a squat of Peacekeepers bustling in under President Snows command and turning me into the easiest target practice in Panem.

But nothing like that happens. And from what Gale tells me, it seems like I never have to fear anything like this happening again. Snow is gone, his government is gone. Already during our Victory Tour Peeta and I have felt the anger of the people, have felt the change in their attitudes, have felt the aggression against the repression of the Capitol. Apparently things have really gotten out of control only shortly after we have been sent in the arena and a sudden, violent but successful subversion has deprived Snow and his government of all his power. I have been unconscious for almost a week. Apparently in that time, things have changed a lot. People, especially the leaders of the rebellion that have been waiting and plotting in a secret facility in District 13 which is, as Gale tells me, not as war-ravaged as the Capitol wanted us to believe. District 12 was one of the first to rebel and many men and women lost their lives as they rose to free themselves from suppression. Prim and my mother however, are alive and well, hoping to hear news about me waking up any day. All these information crashes in on my still weak and dizzy head as I lay back in my hospital bed. _Could it really be? Is it possible that anything I have hoped and wished for has come true? Snow is gone, the rebels have declared the Hunger Games over forever. I am alive, my family is home, safe and sound. Gale is out of danger too. And Peeta._ The sudden longing to see him almost overwhelms me as I let this mind-bending realization wash over me.

"Where did they take Peeta?" I wonder why he is not here at my bedside instead of Gale. Not that I am not grateful but after all we have been through, after all the times I have woken up from sickness finding him keeping watch at my side, I can't help to fear that something is terribly wrong about him not being here. Maybe it is all just too good to be true and I am looking for the proverbial worm in this shiny, red apple of life I feel I've been handed. Or Maybe it was all too much for him? I have often wondered how much more he will take until he finally tells me to fuck off and leave him alone. I never thought about how that might have made him feel, when I asked him to stay in my bed, let him comfort me from my nightmares, while all the time he knew I did not do it out of love. _Or did I? _It must finally have happened, the thing I knew was bound to happen sooner or later: Good and kind Peeta Melaark has finally figured out what kind of person I am. And who could ever love such a person?

This thought shakes me to my very core. It feels like the few long moment in the arena when Peetas heart has stopped all over again. I gulp and blink hysterically, trying desperately not to break into tears before Gale, who has been so loyally waiting at my bedside for me to wake up. He notices something is wrong anyway and is on my bed within seconds, wrapping his arms around me. The physical contact is comforting, though it is not the contact the I desire, that can make me feel calm and peaceful and whole.

"Hey, Catnip!" Gale says softly. "What's wrong? I know this is a lot to digest, but all of it is good news."

"Yeah. I know. It's just…" I can't tell him what I fear, I just can't say it. To him least of all people. I'm only just beginning to see it clearly myself. And I almost fall to pieces and bury my face in my hands as the tears start to streams down my cheeks.

"Katniss, you're awake!"

My head jerks up at the familiar voice so soft and warm and full of joy. I stare. Peetas has the widest, most beautiful smile on his face, his blue eyes shining with happiness and my heart skips a beat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: **Thanks a lot for your reviews! They mean so much to me and make me happy. I'm always nervous to read what people think, especially since English is not my mother tongue.

I have the next few chapters in store so I'll probably be able to update on a daily basis or at least every other day this week. This is a short one. Hope you enjoy anyway and leave a constructively critical review.

**Chapter Two**

I am on my feet again within seconds, and before my legs, weak from the disuse, can fail me and I fall, Peeta is right before me and scoops me into his arms enclosing me in the tightest embrace.

"Hey! Why are you crying? Are you alright?" his voice is full of concern, but all I can do for a few moments is let the tears come and sob against his string chest. His arms hold me close to his body and finally I can feel the violent sniveling ebbing away and I dare to look up.

"Katniss, are you alright?" he smiles at me mildly and a little concerned as he touches my wet and cheek in the attempt to wipe away the tears, only getting his hand wet as well.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine! I just. I am so very relieved… about everything." The sobbing returns, a little less violent and somehow I am glad that I remembered Gales presence just in time before I confessed what I was really so relieved about. With everything happening so fast, I don't want to risk a fight with Gale.

"I leave you alone for one minute and already you're up and crying your eyes out!" it is only when Peeta says this, that I realize he too is dressed in one of those flattering hospital nightgowns, pulling one of those mobile racks with a small bag filled with a clear liquid that is connected to his wrist with a drain tube.

"Oh my god, Peeta!" I cry, as I notice how pale and thin his face looks. But then his words start to sink in. _Did he just say he left me alone for just one minute?_ "Wait, did you sit with me all this time?"

"Every freaking second he was awake and not being treated for his concussion over the past week, he sat here. Like a watchdog. It took me forever to get him out of here and to the doctor for his daily check-up today." I hear Gale confessing fretfully behind me.

I feel a bomb exploding in my chest, sending butterflies through my stomach and a tickly sensation into my limbs, my legs buckle from a new stage of weakness. _Is it possible? Could there still be a little bit of the love he once confessed to me?_ It is almost too god to believe.

"Yeah, well." Peeta gives me a bashful smile and rubs his neck. "The doctors said you'd be fine and you'd come around eventually but I was worried. Also I figured you would have questions when you woke, so I wanted to be there."

"How long have you been up and about? And how is it possible that I've been out for a week when you run around with one of those cool bag thingies in your arm?" I ask and gently bump my fist into his chest, as he guides me over to my bed and helps me under the covers again, protectively plumping up my pillow for me.

"I did have what the doctor called a "severe concussion" but the medicine they gave me was pretty strong and I felt better after two days. They said that with you it was probably just exhaustion. Though I might as well cross out that "just". Someone hit you on the head when the hovercraft picked you up. Apparently they were afraid you might hurt someone. Or yourself, as a matter of fact. Your body and your mind needed a break, Katniss. Badly." He looks at me seriously now and his voice is full of concern as he strokes my forehead ever so lightly, brushing my messy hair with his thumb. Gale is standing over by the door now, as though he is prepared to leave any minute.

"I was so afraid when you weren't waking up." Peeta gently kisses my forehead and suddenly I don't care if Gale will be upset. I just touch Peetas face and lead it down to mine, kissing him softly on the lips. Surrounded by his sweet, familiar, homely scent I realize how very tired I am. The pain in my head subsides a little as I feel myself drift into sleep much quicker than I am willing to. Gale seems to have left the room.

"Will you stay with me?" I manage to mumble against Peetas lips.

"Always." He says and I fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: **Thank you again for all your wonderful reviews. Every morning when I open my e-mail account I am over the moon. I am spending the week end at my parents' house so I won't be able to update until Monday probably. Hope you like the new chapter. Read and review please!

**Chapter Three**

The next few days I spend recovering, which means sleeping most of the time. Peeta is with me every second the doctor allows him to. Gale, who tells me he is involved in some kind of youth movement to represent District 12 and its' needs before the new government, visits daily, but always seems to be tense and inhibited. I also talk with Prim and my mother over the phone every day and they tell me about everything that has changed back home and how they can't wait for me to return.

After two days, Peeta is officially released from the hospital but the doctor bends the rules so he is allowed to stay with me after that anyway. Once more I become aware of the extent to which people are emotionally involved in the tragedy of the start-crossed lovers of District 12, who survived the Hunger Games once and got engaged just to find themselves in the same hopeless situation again the next year. Almost everybody here in the Capitol seems to feel for us. Almost everybody wants us to be able to spend as much time together as we want. I find that strangely touching and therefore feel all the more guilty when Peeta and I decide to lie to everyone about the baby. Of course my doctor has already noticed that I am not pregnant, so we tell him I have lost the baby only shortly before going into the arena, because of all the stress. I am grateful that Peeta does most of the talking, just as I am grateful for the fact that I am not really physically injured, just exhausted, so they don't have to examine certain parts that I am sure an experienced doctor could tell from that I have never been pregnant in the first place.

On my third day awake, Finn visits. He looks the very picture of health and strength, having escaped the arena with only mild injuries and having been treated by the best doctors. He too tells me how sorry he is for losing our child. This time I am near to spilling the beans about that particular topic, but Peeta interrupts me. We have agreed that it might be better if this stayed a secret between Peeta, Haymitch and me. Finnick also reports us a bit of the situation with the new rebel government. Peeta and I have followed everything on the news on TV, but after what I have experienced during both of the Games, I don't really trust this easily manipulated medium any more. Apparently, the worst is over. There are still outbursts of violence on the street, either by discontented people from the Districts who want to vent their anger on the rich Capitol citizens, or from small, hidden groups still loyal to the former government, who try to sabotage the peace the new leaders of the country are trying to establish. All in all though, it seems as if the country is on a fairly good way. The new government keeps the people calm by making promises about improving the living conditions and standards in the Districts and so far, they seem to be trying to live up to peoples' expectations.

That the rebellion has not gone by entirely without victims is something we learn the hard way on the day my prep-team comes to visit. I start crying the instant I see Cinnas ruined face and remember the beating I witnessed just seconds before I went into the arena for the Quarter Qell. But both, Peeta and I, are heartbroken when we hear that Octavia has been killed during an escalated demo against the rebel government. She had not even been part of it, she had just been out on the streets in the wrong time. So when the demonstrators had gotten violent, she was hit in the head with a stone.

That night, I have a nightmare about it but when I wake, Peeta is there to lull me back to sleep by mumbling sweet and soothing words in my ear and stroking my hair. The next morning, my doctor signs me out and I am free to go home.

"I can't wait to see Prim again." I say to Peeta conversationally as he helps me pack up my things for the journey back to District 12. The new government has arranged for us survivors of the Games to be taken back home by train. "And my mom. What's the first thing you are going to do when you get home?"

Peetas smile seems a little sad. "I don't really know. You know, my family doesn't live with me in my house in Victors Village. I think I'll go to see my dad though. I have talked to him on the phone yesterday. Besides, I kind of miss my canvas and paints."

The thought of Peeta coming home to a cold, quiet and empty house makes me so sad I can feel a lump forming in my throat and stomach.

"You can also come to my house for the first dinner home. I'm sure my family won't mind. I mean, with you being my fiancé and all…" I bump my shoulder into his playfully and give him a mischievous wink.

"Thanks, Katniss." He says, but the smile doesn't quite come up to his eyes. I watch him pack up his stuff in silence, getting lost in the way even the horrible artificial hospital light gets caught in his lashes, so long and blonde they are almost invisible if you don't pay attention. My mind drifts to the way he has held me these past nights and to all the nights before he has done that. I think about the fact that he stayed with me, been with me through good and bad, and suddenly and very unexpectedly I hate the fact that our engagement was just pretend and that I'll not be marrying him after all. For the second time after I have woken from my coma like sleep, I feel the same horror of losing him that I felt the moment when his heart had stopped in the arena. I can't contain myself from stomping up to him from behind and wrapping my arms around him, pulling him in an iron firm embrace_. I have to tell him_, I think. _Now is the time_. I have to tell him that, whatever happened before whatever pretending we might have agreed on, this is no game anymore. I never want to lose him! I never want him to leave my side again. _I don't know much about love, but if wanting someone to always be with you so badly that it threatens to burst open your chest is love, then I love Peeta Melaark._

From where I stand, I can't see his face, but I feel his touch on my hand.

"Peeta…"I start, but the moment shatters to pieces when the door of my room bursts open and Cinna and the Prep-Team bustle in busily, carrying all kinds of cosmetics and clothing.

"Ohh! Look at those two." Flavius sighs dreamily. I let go of Peetas warm body only hesitantly and move around him so we can share a confused look.

"Not that I am not happy to see you guys, but what is going on? They are not going to let you dress us up for another round in the arena again, are they?" Peeta jokes, but I can hear the irritation and fear in his voice. Cinna looks at us a little guiltily.

"Of course not! It's just that people have gotten so interested in the two of you that they want to see you safely and happily in each others' arms. So the new government has asked if you'd maybe be willing to do another interview before you left for home. You know, to give the people something to be happy about in these unsteady times. Of course you can always say no! But I think it would mean a lot to many people out there."

"Can I speak about his to Katniss alone for a minute?" Peeta asks.

"Sure." Cinna answers and ushers Flavius and Venia out of the room.

Peeta turns to me. "We've had a tough few months and I think we deserve some peace and quiet. I'm sure no one would be angry if we said no."

"You don't want to do it?"

"No, I mean, I would. But, I know you always hated all of this …." He pauses for a moment, looking at me strangely while searching for the right words. "All this acting for the cameras."

This comment makes me feel a little uncertain about what to do. I want to tell him that if I step outside with him now to kiss in front of the cameras and tell the world how happy I am to be with him once more, that I hope we will never have to part again now, it's no act. I want to tell him that if I do it, I do it because it's real. But I can't tell him now, hushed because the others are waiting just outside, and quick, because the train will leave soon.

"Sorry, but your train leaves in two hours and if you want to do the interview we need time to get you ready." I hear Cinnas voice outside. And once again I'm being rushed into things, without really having the time to sort anything out with Peeta.

"I think Cinna is right. It's kind of nice how people care about us. We should give them something to be happy about." I say and take Peetas hand, pressing it hard in mine to show him that my next words are important to me. "But after that, we need to talk. There are some things I have realized. But I think we need a little more alone time to talk."

"Okay." Peeta replies with a certain seriousness in his voice that causes my heart to turn to ice. _Did he misunderstand? Was I sounding too grave and he thinks I'm ending it forever? Oh god, was he maybe planning on ending it forever?_

"Maybe we should get our stories about the baby and the engagement straight before we…" but his reasonable proposition is cut short by Cinna head popping up in a half opened door.

"Seriously guys, if you want to do it we need to start now!" he says apologetically, realizing the tenseness in the air.

"Come in. We'll do the interview." Peeta says and within minutes we are being swarmed by busily working bees improving our rather rustic hospital-style looks with every stroke of their skin powder brushes. After Several minutes, Flavius ushers Peeta out of the room.

"Fiancé or not, we can't have you undress in front of one another." He says, and I hear Peeta mumbling about "having seen him naked before" and "leg injury" before he is out of the door and out of my sight, leaving me alone with Cinna. I must be looking pretty desperate because as Cinna unwraps the wonderfully simple, powder blue summer dress he has prepared for me, he comments:

"Don't worry, Katniss. You'll get him back in one piece."

I sigh heavily but say nothing except compliment the dress and thank Cinna once more for his brilliant work. As he does my hair, braiding it into a slightly prim but pretty halo around my head, I feel giddy and restless. Naturally, he notices.

"You really seem tense, Katniss. Is everything alright between you and Peeta?"

"Yeah. I just… it's nothing." And I fall silent again.

After both of us are ready we say goodbye to Cinna, Flavius and Venia, thanking them for their good work and agreeing to keep in frequent touch. Peeta looks absolutely stunning in the pale blue shirt matching the color of my dress, hugging his muscular torso tightly and the ash grey dress pants. I tell him how nice I think he looks and he smiles, pushing a strand of hair back behind my ear, and then tells me how perfect he thinks I look. An overly excited member of the hospital staff carries our things for us, probably hoping to have his fife minutes of fame as soon as we step outside, where the cameras are waiting.

Just before we leave through the front door, I feel my heart skipping a beat as Peeta takes my hand. He looks at me. But what he says next makes my chest tighten violently. It is the same thing he said to me once before, only this time it isn't a question:

"One more time. For the audience."

And we go into the flashing camera lights.


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: **So, here we go. I think it's time for Katniss to spill the beans! This Chapter might have some slightly corny parts, but hey, if I wouldn't have missed those in the books, I wouldn't be writing this Fic. Hope you enjoy! Feel free to leave a review (even if you didn't enjoy!).

**Chapter Four**

The interview is torture. It is much worse than any of the acting I have ever had to do with Peeta. I feel like being rasped between the fear of having waited too long to tell Peeta how I feel for him and the anticipation to finally catch a moment alone with him while keeping up the façade of a perfectly happy relationship of two young people just delighted that they have done the impossible and survived the Hunger Games together a second time. As Peeta answers a question about how our lives will go on after the past few days, I wonder vaguely if the odds will be in my favor a third time or if he has already slipped too far away from me. _Has he stopped loving me? Was he maybe just too kind to leave me alone in the hospital? _Often have I wondered to what part Peetas actions were really motivated by his feelings for me and to what part it was just his incredible, almost boundless kindness. I am rudely pulled from my thoughts when I hear a reporter shout a question in my face. Just in time, I remember to keep my smile in perfect check.

"Miss Everdeen! Katniss! One more question, please. After everything you've been through in the Games, with losing the baby and after the fall of the Capitol: Can we still hope to see the fairy tale wedding of the star-crossed lovers of District 12?"

For a moment I am lost for words as I stare into the expectant faces of what feel like a million of reporters. _Fucking good question_. Will there ever be a wedding ahead for the two of us or is that future lost forever? I open my mouth but instead of words, a horrible choking sound escapes my lips. It is all I can do not to clasp my hand in front of my face, hiding the tears I feel welling up. _What is happening to me?_ _I didn't use to be like this. Is it really lov that can make you feel this miserable?_

As always, Peeta is by my side to rescue me from the wolves.

"The past weeks have been a tensile test. As much as we want to be together, we have to adjust to the new living conditions in our district and deal with the changes that have taken place during our time in the hospital before we can think about specific points in our future." To my ears it sounds like a lame excuse to stall people because he doesn't want to admit what he implied to me earlier. That this is the last time the cameras will be able to catch a few moments of this happy-couple act. It feels like a blow to my stomach that subsides a little when I hear him adding charmingly to the cameras:

"But just between you guys and me: There is no way I am letting her out of this engagement that easily." He winks conspiratorially to the crowd and pulls me even closer into his arms with a gesture of possessive protectiveness. There are a lot of "awwws" and "ohhhs" form the people.

And finally, it is over. Since there is no Capitol official, no Effie, no Haymitch here to officially end the interview and escort us to the train, we have to struggle a little to make our way from the hospital to the train station. But after the last reporter is finally gotten rid of, we find that a small party of people has gathered to see us off. I spot Gale, standing a little apart from the others, and Finnick who is talking to Effie. It surprises me a little how happy I am that she has come to say good bye. Now that I think of it, I don't think she is someone I will ever see again. I exchange a few words about staying in contact with Finnick and get pulled into an emotional hug from Effie before she throws herself into Peetas arms and I can say goodbye to Gale. He tells me he will stay a few more weeks, maybe even months, because he feels he can really help make a change here. I make an unhappy face at this, but he only laughs.

"Oh, come on, Catnip. I think you'll be just fine. You've got your baker boy looking after you. After all I think, he was always the healthier choice." He gives me an amicable thump in the shoulder, though he looks a little glum. I laugh nervously.

"Well, I don't know anything about "having him", really."

Gale seems to sense my doubts and despair and leans in closer.

"Are you kidding?" He whispers incredulously. "He was madly in love with you already during the first Games. He got over his pride and hurt feelings and was there for you in the Games a second time. Believe me, I have seen the way he looks at you whenever you're not noticing. I have seen the way he looked at you in the hospital, when you were knocked out." His voice goes from insistent to hollow. "Whatever I feel for you, he's got it _way _worse."

I give Gale a long, thankful hug and tell him to thank you and take care just as the announcer on the train station asks everybody with a ticket to get on board. As I climb the train, I hear Effie whispering lowly to Peeta:

"I've asked them to book just one for sleeping cabin for the two of you. I thought you might need some privacy after the long days in the hospital."

This comment makes me feel slightly uncomfortable and I feel my cheeks turning hot. Also I am surprised to hear this from Effie, the very same woman who addressed our slumber parties on the train during our Victory Tour with the stern request to be a little more "discreet". When the doors close behind us and Peeta steps up next to me, I can tell from the prominent color of his ears that he is equally embarrassed but he doesn't say anything, probably hoping I haven't heard.

We find our seats and get comfortable, preparing for a long day on the train. Since we are no longer on our way in the role of Tributes or Victors or in any way part of the Capitols propaganda, we don't have the luxury of a whole train just to ourselves. They have booked us into the first class of a regular train, shuttling between the Capitol and the upper districts. It's a first time in years that the train will actually be going farther out than District 5, but our privileges still go far enough that they will make this exception. Although there are people sitting nearby in our wagon, we still have enough privacy to talk without being overheard. So after a bit of chit chat about the train and the coziness of the seats, Peeta falls silent. Just as I am about to muster all the courage I have, he shifts in his seat nervously and looks at me with a half-smile.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk about? You said something about "realizing things" earlier."

And with a sudden pang all my inhibitions, worries and fears are back, releasing a swarm of butterflies in my stomach that flutter around so excitedly, I'm afraid one of them might just pop out of my mouth any second.

"Well, um." I mutter lamely. _Better start with honesty_, I think. "You know, I'm no good with words so you should know that this is really hard for me."

He nods, his face is serious. Until now I have wrecked my brain to pieces about how Peeta might react, what I should do if he rejects me. I hate myself for the fact that not once before I have thought about what to say to him. _I can't do this. This is not right. This should be easier_, I keep thinking. _It should just happen in a romantic moment. We shouldn't just talke about everything this soberly. I'm doing it all wrong_.

Peeta seems to pick up my mayor fit of utter distress and scoots over to the seat next to mine. His warm presence and his sweet smell (_Since when does his scent have such an effect on me?_) surround me and strangely enough, it calms me and makes me even more jittery at the same time. I bury ma face in his chest, thinking about something to say.

"You know, you're not half as bad with words as you think. Like back in the arena on the beach when you told me you needed me. It was just what I needed to hear that moment. Surely not what I wanted to hear, but what I needed. I know that now."

My grip on him tightens as I can't shake the feeling that he knows that I'm about to say something really important to him and despite the fact that we both know I should just have spit it out ages ago, he is patient, trying to help me get there. It is as if he is throwing me a lifebelt that I can cling to to get back on board.

"I really meant that!" I manange to say. "Honestly. There are so many things I should have said earlier, but I never knew I should have said them, because I never knew I wanted to say them myself." I feel stupid. Peeta looks at me a little nonplussed.

"What I'm trying to say is – and I was going to say this earlier, in the hospital – I don't want to pretend anything anymore. Not to the people, but also not to you. And most importantly not to myself. When we first met and went into the arena together, it was all too much. Of course I remembered you from the incident with the bread and I was so ashamed that I had never paid you back, never even thanked you. And then things went so quickly. I had promised my sister to survive. In the beginning I didn't know what kind of person you are. I didn't know if I would have to kill you sooner or later rather than be killed by you. And then in the cave, when we kissed, I felt _something._ But with I had left Gale at home and never sorted out what he meant to me, so I told myself I didn't feel anything at all for any of the two of you. Except for friendship. And the day we came home, when you realized…."

I have to stop there for a moment, because the words seem to catch in my throat, never wanting to escape my mouth. I look at Peeta, who is listening intently, obviously displeased by my sudden hesitation. The eager and hopeful look on his face makes me feel even guiltier about that day. _Could it be that even after all this time, he still wants to be with me? _This very expression also helps me overcome my embarrassment.

"… well, when you found out." I just say. "I wanted to tell you then, that it was not _all_ a lie, that I was just too busy coping to think about what our kisses had meant to me. But you didn't want to talk to me and I felt so ashamed and horrible. But I missed you, especially at night. So when you proposed to just go back to being friends when cameras were off, I was so happy to have you back. It was selfish of me to ask you to stay with me at night, knowing there might still be more than friendship between us but never admitting to it myself. I couldn't then. But now…" I feel this terrible abashment and fear of refusal again. This time, I am determined to get over it by myself. I owe it to him.

"But now, everything is different. At first I told myself that this terrible fear of losing you in the arena was so strong because we were friends. But then, when your heart stopped from the force field, I knew I could never go on without you. I should have told you how I feel the night on the beach, but I hadn't admitted it to myself, not even then. It wasn't until I woke up in the hospital and you weren't there, that I noticed what it would mean to me if you weren't in my life."

By now, I am way past the point of caring whether my words come out kitschy or gooey. I know I can't voice them more elegant or eloquent. What I feel, I have to express with the means at my disposal and I pray to whomever might hear me that it is good enough to make him understand. My eyes are stinging from the tears I am desperately trying to blink back. His continuous silence stretches my nerves to the point of breaking.

"What I am saying is: No more pretending. When I kissed you earlier it wasn't for the crowd. It was because I wanted to."

I don't know._ Does he look angry? Doubtful? Pitiful? Disgusted? _His pretty face is unreadable to me as the silence stretches.


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: **As always, I have to thank for your reviews! They always make my day. But I'd also like to say thank you to all the nice people, who are now following this story or added it to their favorites.

So, after the little cliffhanger (mean, I know. ;-)) read on to find out how Peeta will respond. This chapter also features my personal version of Peetas "real or not real" game.

**Chapter Five **

I shift uncomfortably, suddenly feeling awkward so close to the boy I just practically confessed to being in love with and who hasn't uttered a word in response for about a minute.

"Well, say something. Say anything." I vaguely remember him making some similar request to me back the day in the arena, when he confessed how long he had been (as he put it) a "goner" when it came to me. And just like that I suddenly know exactly how he felt and my admiration for the selfless, reasonable way he acted during the Victory Tour rises to a next level. I am still waiting for his response, though.

To my horror he turns away from me. I dare not say anything as I watch him for a moment, head bent, shoulders slouching. And then I notice his back twitching slightly. I can also hear suppressed hissing sounds. For a moment there I think he is crying.

"I'm sorry, Katniss." He manages in between breathless choking sounds. "Please, don't be mad at me. I don't want you to get this the wrong way. It's just…" and then he turns around and I realize it. He is laughing. Rage flares up in my stomach instantaneously while at the same time strong waves of shame crash down on me. I can feel a violent pressure in my chest that is threatening to rip it open. My hand is itching to hit Peeta in the face.

As he sees the expression on my face, his now loud and open laughing subsides a little.

"I am so sorry, Katniss. Please don't be mad. I'm not laughing at you! I'm really not. It's just after all the things we've been through, after everything, hearing what you just said makes me feel so…" He is almost a little hysterical now and my anger gives way a little to confusion and a not a small portion of concern about his sanity.

"So relieved. I feel a ton lighter." He manages to say. And now that he's said it, his laugh does not seem amused or mocking let alone disdainful. "Like a thousand pounds have been lifted off my chest."

I am in a state of stunned shock for a few seconds. _Relieve? He feels lighter?_ And then: _I feel it too_! I realize. And suddenly I see what is so funny about everything and I feel like laughing too and crying at the same time. I start giggling but soon we goad each other and in no time, people around us are turning their heads because we are bellowing with laughter, leaning into each others arms, trying to catch our breaths between our fits until these fits turn into giggles again after what feels like hours and we calm down eventually as we fall back into my seat. My body and head feel so light, I am afraid I might take off and float away through the cracked window but Peeta holds me safely in his arms and I know I am not going anywhere. For the first time since my name has been pulled out of the bowl for the first time, I know that everything will be alright. I have survived the games, my family is safe and provided for, I am no longer on Snows death list, in fact, Snow doesn't even exist to haunt me anymore. Except in my nightmares. But when those come I have no doubt now that Peeta will be there to comfort me, like he has done so many times. I don't think I have realized it before this very moment, but now I am free. Free from hunger, from the fear of going into the arena ever again or of Prim being picked. Free from the fear of losing Peeta. Tears of laughter turn into tears of joy and I don't give a rats' ass that people are still staring strangely because of the uproar we exhibited earlier.

"I am sorry." Peeta whispers. "I just felt so much like laughing. I haven't felt like this in ages."

"It's fine." I sigh. "I'm not crying because of that."

"I know." He bows down to me and I can feel his warm breath against my cheeks, his lips almost brushing my skin. It sends a shiver down my spine, settling as a warm tingling in the depth of my belly. "I just want you to know, that I heard you. Loud and clear."

I turn my face towards his and our lips meet in a light, delicate kiss. As I bring my hands up to his face, he pulls me so close I am almost sitting on his lap.

"Look." He says and we stay there, cuddled up, watching the breathtakingly beautiful landscape outside the window pass us by in the gleaming sunlight of a bright, clear mid-morning. We spent the entire morning like this. Later we go to the dining car and have lunch but return to our cozy seats as soon as possible. In the afternoon, Peeta finally seems to have really realized what I have told him earlier and decided to react to it a little more typical of his character. There are still a few things left to talk about and knowing how awkward stating my feeling makes me feel, Peeta suggests a little game he calls "real or not real" in which either of us makes a statement he believes to be either real or not real and the other one has to confirm or negate. This way, we find out a lot of the other persons thoughts, hopes and fears during the past weeks. Things that have been kept secret in the face of the Capitols control and impending death in the arena. I also learn, what Peeta had meant earlier, when he had said we would go to face the cameras one last time. It turns out, all he meant to tell me was that soon it would all be over and that I would be free from the cameras and also from him, if I wanted to be. Bashful as I still feel, I can't bring myself to tell him how desperately I had feared that maybe he didn't want me anymore, but I put my hand on the soft skin and fine hair in his neck and pull him into a kiss. It has a very different taste than the light kiss we shared earlier and I feel an overwhelming hunger for more.

As a late evening sun is about to set on the western horizon, we decide to go to our sleeping cabin, tired after this long day of laughing, crying, talking and kissing. My cheeks are glowing bright red, as he we go hand in hand to find our cabin and I ask myself how in one day everything can change so much. Only this morning I woke up next to Peeta, who had spent the entire night next to me, holding me in his strong arms. _And now?_ I think. _Now that I know, and he knows?_ I can tell that for him too it is different, from the way he smiles at me a little sheepishly, as he holds the door open for me. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom while and tell him I'll meet him in the cabin.

But instead of going to the bathroom, I find the small platform on the end of the wagon that allows passengers to step outside and hold their noses into the wind. For a moment I just stand there, inhaling the crisp, clear evening air trying to calm down from these tempestuous feelings raging in my chest. It's happiness and longing and expectation and a little edginess all rolled into one. _Its Peeta_, I tell myself. _It's my boy with the bread_. And the thought calms me a little. There is no need to be afraid of anything. Not anymore. Not after what we have been through.

As I return to the sleeping cabin, I notice a nice, languid music piece playing, its harmonic sound leaking though the half open doors, probably coming from the television that is installed on the walls of the cabin. It has a vaguely familiar ring to it. For a moment I consider knocking, but then I opt for nudging the door a few inches wider open to peek in and see if I won't interrupt Peeta undressing or anything.

I stop dead in my movement as I see him standing there in the middle of his the room, completely unmoving, slouching a little, and staring onto some distant, invisible spot on the carpet, completely lost in his own thoughts and the music. A split second, I'm afraid something or someone has turned him into solid stone, but then I notice the slow rising and falling of his chest. In the diffuse, evening light which is seeping in through the windows of the room, his hair looks like finespun, bright gold and his long lashes glimmer faintly against the sunbeams. Little specks of dust are visible in the air around him like snowflakes on a clear winter day.

The beauty of this picture of silent contemplation, _his_ beauty, hits me like a sudden wave of warm water. I can feel my pulse quickening at the sight of his thoughtful countenance and I can't shake the idea that this infinitely good person might not be from this world.

I realize that I forgot breathing for a moment, and my sharp intake of breath gives me away to Peeta.

"Hey." I say lamely.

"Hello." His smile is radiant. "You don't remember this song, do you?"

"I thought it sounded kind of familiar when I just came in."

"We danced to this on the Victory Tour. On the ball in the Capitol."

Now that he's said it, I actually do remember. I remember the firm grip of his right hand on mine, his left warm on my lower back. I remember swaying to the measured rhythm, I remember his sky-blue eyes searching my face.

"You had a flower in your hair that night. Every man in the ball room envied me."

It is strange, how this comment, casually said but full of tenderness, makes me feel now. Only a while ago it would have left me with an uncomfortably guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach. Right now it only makes my heart flutter with the same excitement I had felt all day. _What is this?_

"And you looked dashing in your suit. The color went so well with your eyes." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. _Whoops. _I can feel a red heat rising in my cheeks as Peeta looks at me curiously.

"I can't believe you remembered the song." I say, and enter the narrow cabin.

"It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life, I think. Even with everything else going on around us." He states honestly and I can't help but wonder how he can just say these things like other people say "It is going to be raining tomorrow."

"It was definitely one of the better days." Peeta chuckles at this, then stretches out his hand towards me.

"Would honor me with a dance?"

His question takes me by surprise, but before my head can come up with any objections, my body has already responded and I feel the unmistakable warmth and sweet, familiar smell of Peeta Melaark engulfing me. The effect this has on me is totally unexpected. It's a dizzying explosion of heat in my belly that sends tingling sensations to the tips of my toes and fingers and even over scalp, leaving me intoxicated with a pleasant excitement I have only felt a few times before in my life, but never this strong. Whatever I felt about that kiss in the cave or on the beach, whatever I thought I felt earlier, seems just a faint herald to these powerful sentiments that shoot through my body now. Somewhere in the back of my head I ask myself if this is the way he has felt about me all the time while I pretended to be in love with him.

I notice his lips on the top of my head, as I press my face into his strong chest, inhaling his soapy, warm scent and I can't keep myself from thinking that _this is what home smells like_. For the rest of the song, we are content to just keep dancing closely presses against each other, swaying and whirling. Once Peeta, who is a far better dancer than I am of course, turns me around in his arms, and I laugh coltishly.

As the song ends and in the small silence just before a catchy up-tempo number hits our ears, we just stare at each other unbelievingly, as if I either of us is seeing the other person for the first time and can't quite believe the other person is really there. The start of the song kind of ruins the moment a little and Peeta breaks the silence by suggesting we get the foldout bed ready. The Cabin is designed to hold three people, so we have a foldout double bed that takes up the whole floor of the cabin and another that can be folded out from the ceiling, creating an additional bunk bed.

"You want to be on top?" Peeta asks me, grinning slyly and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. As the double meaning of his joke sinks in, I am a little shocked to hear something like this out of his mouth. _One more colorful side to him I haven't met yet._ I turn bright red. "Pure" he has called me once, people even made fun about me for that. A little stubborn at the thought of this and motivated by the lively music, I grab a pillow and hit him square in the face. His expression is priceless, but he doesn't hesitate to seek revenge and soon we are caught in a wild, ruthless battle. I even manage to rip one of the small pillows in the process and send feathers flying around the room. Finally, we fall back on the bed, exhausted, both laughing. I creep up to rest my head on Peetas chest and the thought crosses my mind that, maybe, we won't be needing that bunk bed after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Note: **Sorry, but I felt a little uninspired writing this. Hope you like it anyway. I'm thinking about speeding things up for the two of them a little in the next chapter and before I can end this story. For starters, I think Katniss has three very important words she needs to say to Peeta before this is over. Secondly the two of them deserve some smut. So that will have to happen. Some time soon! I just have to get in the mood. :-D

**Chapter Six**

This night it is hard for me to find sleep. Although I feel more than comfortable snuggled up next to Peetas warm body, being softly lulled in by the monotonous rattling and rocking of the train, I am way to excited to calm down enough to fall asleep. We have spent the evening lying in each other arms, kissing and touching shyly. It is strange how everything seems to have changed between the two of us. We have kissed a thousand times before, but now that we both now that it is more to us than just a way of surviving the cruel game someone is playing with us, we are a lot more careful not to go farther than the other person feels comfortable with. I notice the change also in the way we lie next to each other. It used to be Peeta, holding me safely and securely with no regard as to the comfortableness of his own sleeping position, and me, curled up against him, trying to find shelter from the nightmares that haunted me. But this night everything is different. In the warm room we lie on top of the sheet on our sides, facing each other, our faces so close together that I can feel the hot breath escaping his slightly parted lips, on mine. His arm is draped comfortably over my side and he has fallen asleep drawing small, lazy circles on the bare skin of my back where he had pushed the hem of my shirt up. His own shirt is in the most beautiful disarray I could possibly imagine because it has slid up over his stomach, revealing a sight on the muscular, flat area around his navel. This view paired with the way our legs are entangled causes the by now familiar tingling feeling in my stomach to sink to a deeper location, a development that catches me totally off guard but does not come at all unwelcome. For the first time I realize I do not just like him or love him, but _want_ him, in a way I have never allowed myself to want anyone before. If have thought about these things before, usually when I imagined what my potential future with Gale would be like, but I had never _felt_ anything. And surely nothing like the burning heat that is beginning to concentrate in a certain area as I envision Peetas arm sliding down over my hip and letting his big, strong hands find their way to the few places he has, after all the feigned intimacy, never touched before. It does not help as he breathes out audibly and let lets out a soft little "Hmmmm", obviously caught in a pleasant dream for once.

I feel embarrassed at my own thoughts and a little confused how sudden these strong feelings and desires are beginning to build up. But I decide it would be rather unfair to explore any of these things further, without at least including Peeta in a wake state, so I nudge a little closer, our noses touching very softly now, and try my best to go to sleep.

An automatic announcement wakes us the next morning, telling us that we are soon to be arriving in District 12. We get dressed and take our breakfast in the dining car, now empty except for the two of us. We have only just finished our meal, when the train slows down noticeably and we grab our luggage. I have noticed during breakfast that Peeta has grown more and more quiet. Only half an hour ago we had been joking and laughing friskily, but the closer the end of our journey comes, the glummer he gets. Something crosses my mind, as we stand closely together by the doors of the train, waiting for it to come to a halt at the station.

"Peeta, you know what I said yesterday morning in the hospital, I meant that. If you don't feel like going home, you can still come with me to my house." I take his hand and squeeze it affectionately. "In fact, I'd be happy if you'd come."

"Really, Katniss? I mean, you haven't seen your family in such a long time. I'd understand if you wanted some alone time with them." He say, smiling at me with what he probably hopes to be an understanding expression. To me it just looks a little lost. I turn towards him fully and kiss him on the mouth, long and soft. With this gesture I hope to show him that I am absolutely serious about what I just said. Plus I need a few seconds to gather the courage to voice the response that crosses my mind.

"But you are part of my life now. I never want you to leave." I squeeze his hand a little harder, gazing out of the doors of the now only slowly rolling train, hoping to conceal my glowing cheeks and the discomfort confessions such as this still cause me. "I never want to have to let go."

After a few seconds of silence, I feel Peetas hand on my cheek and he turns my face towards his, staring at me with thickly glazed eyes and a look on his face as though I am the most delicious cake he has ever seen in his entire life and he can't quite believe he is really going to have a slice. He wraps his arms around me then, pressing me so close I am a little afraid I might choke.

"Thanks. I love you, Katniss." He whispers. And the train comes to a rather abrupt halt and we stumble, crashing into the wall to our right. As the doors open we struggle to come back on our feet, only making it worse by clinging to each other trying to help, laughing almost uncontrollably. Moments later we look into the smiling faces of the people waiting for us und for a second I am almost feeling a hint of regret that there is no camera here to pick us up. This moment when the doors opened must have looked like the picture of the blissful young love they were so eager to catch on tape. And for once it didn't just look like it, it was. As I storm out of the train, I don't let go of Peetas hand, pulling him with me out on the platform where Prim is already waiting. I only let got very hesitantly as I catch my little sister in a violent hug.

"Katniss!" she squeaks and sobs, clinging to my neck and crying. As we let go of each other so I can also hug my mother, I see Prim looking from me to Peeta and back for a moment, as if she is noticing something is different between us, and then she throws herself at him and embraces him too. Behind my mother, I spot Haymitch loitering around a pillar, grinning at me widely. I wave at him and he comes over and pulls me into a bone crushing hug.

"Hey there, Sweetheart. Who thought I'd see you again?" he winks at me wickedly, then booms "Peeta!" and knocks the air out of the poor boys chest as their bodies collide. He even pats his cheek and mutters something incoherent about "my dear boy" and I'm pretty sure I see his puffy, red eyes glaze over a little with tears. It is rather sobering though, to see that none of Peetas friends and family have shown up. Prim notices too and in her usual light and open way tells him:

"Peeta, will you come with us? We have a little something prepared to welcome the two of you home."

As we make our way from the station to our House in Victors Village, I notice the differences around me. It's not really the look of things, though, except maybe that there are a few more people on the streets. It is a hopeful, generally positive atmosphere that fills the air and makes you feel like people are looking to the future with a bit more expectation and confidence. From the way Peeta looks around, smiling slightly, I notice he must have detected it, too. I hold on to his hand tightly, while we walk. Of course, Haymitch can't refrain from commenting on our new found closeness even though ir is not necessary to convinceanyone of it anymore.

"You two seem cozy." He murmurs making sure we are out of earshot of my family. I can only assume he is about to make some kind of bawdy comment. "You've finally gotten your head out of your ass and noticed he's the best thing that ever happened to you, eh Sweetheart?"

"Haymitch!" Peeta admonishes, but grins widely despite Haymitchs rather rustic way of putting the matter. I give Haymitch a not to tender thump in the chest with my elbow. He just laughs.

"Hey, all I'm saying is: I saw that kiss on the beach. And there was _no way_ that was just an act. People were actually fanning themselves from all the heat on screen and you're really not that good an actress. I'm happy for the two of you. Our poor Peeta here had to wait long enough to see it happen."

We are on the door to our house now, and Haymitch, who has jostled between us and lain a hand on either of our shoulders like a fatherly mentor, giving advice to his best students, makes us lag behind somewhat as my mother unlocks the front door.

"How did it happen?" Hymitch keeps insisting, knowing pretty damn well how uncomfortable talking about these things makes me feel. "Did she confess her love to you down on one knee?" he addresses Peeta, who just shakes his head amusedly, more to show Haymitch how inappropriately silly he finds him and less to actually answer the question. Haymitchs grin widens to a mischievous smirk and I can smell the alcohol in his breath as he bows down to us.

"Or was it maybe something else that brought you closer? I heard from Effie that you shared a sleeping cabin…" 

"Haymitch!" I cry, fed up with his stupid teasing that is making my ears turn pink and my mouth dry. I feel a little guilty remembering my thoughts and feelings of the past night, watching the adorable sleeping Peeta. Haymitch barks out a laugh and Peeta gives me his patented bashful smile that always seems to make my knees go soft nowadays.

"Come in, you three!" I hear my mothers' voice and we climb the stairs and enter the room, just to find it filled with people and the amazing scent of delicious food.

"Welcome home!" Prim squeaks in excitement.

"Alive!" Haymitch adds and gives us a wink before he heads straight to the table with the drinks.


	7. Chapter 7

**Note: **Thank you for reviewing and making this story a favorite or adding it to your alert list! Writing is so much more fun when people actually want to read the result. Please, keep reviewing, if you liked it and even if you didn't! Because there is no improvement without constructive criticism!

**Chapter Seven**

The party is amazing. Everybody I know and like is there and wants to congratulate me on making it out of the arena a second time alive. Some people even thank me because they seem to give me credit for the rebellion although I feel I had no real part in it since we didn't even know it was going on whilst Peeta and I fought for our lives. They all seem to think that the way we defied the Capitols propaganda repeatedly played an important role in causing the rebellion, which makes both, Peeta and me, feel a little awkward. We heard that a group of organized rebels in District 13 had been planning to overthrow the government all along. That was no accomplishment of ours.

But people seem to be genuinely happy to see us alive and there is a lot of laughter in the room. Haymitch makes Peeta and my mother toast a drink to our return home and, to mark the occasion, even Prim is allowed to take a sip. Around midday Peetas father shows up for an hour or so and I see the two of them talking coolly but good naturedly to each other and sharing a short hug before Mr. Melaark leaves again (not without leaving a box of cookies, as I notice to my delight).

By the time the party draws to its end it is already noon and people start to leave for home, I am more than just a little tipsy. After Haymitch has said his goodbye through a rather moist and rough kiss on my cheek, I sink onto the couch next to Peeta, who sits there, smiling absentmindedly with adorably reddened cheeks. _He must have had his share of sparkly alcoholic beverages too_, I think and lean my head on his shoulder.

"Do you need some help, Mrs. Everdeen?" he asks my mother, who has started to clean away the dishes with the assistance of my sister, politely.

"Oh no! Thank you, but you two just relax and make yourselves feel at home again." She says and bustles out of the room carrying a tray full of glasses.

"Maybe I should get over to my own house, then." Peeta sighs and gets up from the couch. "You know, unpack, maybe shower."

His proposition makes my stomach knot instantly. I have been feeling so well and happy all day, chatting with the people I thought I might never see again, eating and drinking, all the while clutching Peetas hand tightly in my own, being close to him all day and never thinking of the fact that I might ever have to let go again. It seems though, that the time has come.

"Oh. Yeah, sure." I say, trying not to sound too disappointed. _Hell, he's just going across the lawn about twenty meters from this house! Don't be a clingy, silly little girl, Katniss_, I tell myself. But somehow I can't make myself feel better. I have not thought about it until now, but I suddenly realize that I will have to try and sleep without him tonight and probably many other nights from now on. With everything between us being so new and fresh, we haven't talked about what would happen once we were home in our houses again, how we would continue this young relationship.

"Your mother and sister probably want you for themselves for a little bit. They haven't seen you in weeks!" he says as we walk into the hall together.

"Will you be o.k. all alone over there?" I ask with honest concern in my voice.

"Katniss, I've lived alone in my house before the Games. I will be just fine." He leans in and kisses me, long and tender, as though to assure me how fine he really is, but makes me feel worse in the process because now I know what I'll be missing all evening. _And all night_, I add mentally, blushing at my own thoughts. As I hug him, I press my face into the small, soft patch of skin right behind his ear.

"So, see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely!" His grin is wide and joyful, his face looks just as flushed as mine. Gently he pushes a strand of hair out of my face and opens the door and we linger in the doorway for a while in silence, unwilling to let go of each others' hand. Then, without another word, he finally lets go and hurries down the stairs and I close the door behind him.

It takes a few second before my heartbeat has steadied and I lean against the closed door, sighing deeply. My feelings are in an uproar. I feel infinitely happy, pleasantly excited and very sorry to see him go. On top of that, I feel a little stupid and ashamed for all my lovey-dovey behavior. Had I seen it in any other person just weeks ago, I would probably have rolled my eyes and mimicked some vomiting gestures behind her back. Being this person myself however, is about the most pleasant thing I have ever experienced.

As soon as I have recollected my wits and thoughts, I go into the kitchen to help Prim and my mother cleaning the dishes, but find them already finished and enjoying a cup of tea, nibbling on Mr. Melaarks cookies. I sit down and grab one myself even though I am not hungry in the hopes that maybe it will relieve the slight swimming of my head and blurring of my sight that I blame partly on the alcohol, partly on Peetas goodnight kiss.

"They are very good!" Prim comments, finishing her cookie with visible bliss.

"They are even better when Peeta makes them."

"Of course they are!" she cries, grinning at me so hugely, for a second I think about warning her not to rip the corners of her mouth but decide not to. It is my mothers' comment that really makes it uncomfortable.

"You two seem… different." She says.

I have never talked about anything that happened with Peeta to them. I have never told them how I felt about the pretended love story, about the wedding, about the baby thing. The fact that my mother has never brought it up, not before the Games (she never really had a chance then, though) and not after, during all the calls when I was in the hospital, tells me that she took it as what it was: A lie. A strategy to survive. I don't know the full extent of her knowledge about the act Peeta and I kept up on screen, but I am pretty sure she had a good idea of it. She witnessed the radio silence between Peeta and me before we went away for the Quarter Quell, after all. But her and Prim will surely have seen every minute of the Games on TV, so it is likely they have seen me loosing it when Peetas heart stopped from running into the force field. In retrospect my strong reaction to that was probably a first clue, not only for the people who knew me, but also for myself. They will have seen the kiss that night on the beach.

"Yeah." I just say, a little lost for words.

"The way he looks at you, Katniss! It's so adorable. I wish I'll find someone who looks at me like this one day!" Prim sighs dreamily and bites into another cookie, looking completely away with the fairies. This opportunity to take the focus of the conversation off me comes just right.

"You will! You will find someone who will love you very much. And you will love him!" I assure her and she smiles at me. Unfortunately, I don't seem to be let off the hook this easily.

"Like you and Peeta?" she asks. Again I feel my cheeks flush a deep crimson. Maybe it is the alcohol that is making me bold, but I decide that if I can overcome my embarrassment with Peeta, I can overcome it with my family too.

"Yes." I admit. "Like Peeta and me." A silence follows, in which Prim and my mother are just looking at me, as though they are searching my face for any sign of uneasiness.

"Let's move to the couch!" my mother suggests then, and just like that, the discussion is over. It seems I have made my point.

We spent the evening in cozy togetherness and I get answered a lot of questions about the rebellion, about the changes in this District and the others. What they tell me is frightening but also gives me hope.

It is already late when we decide to go to bed. With everything that has happened today, I haven't really had the time to move back into my room yet. So as soon as I have said good night, I go upstairs and start to slowly unpack, getting reacquainted with the belongings I left behind. I shower and dress in my most comfortable sleeping clothes. But when I get into bed I notice instantly that sleeping without Peeta will never be as good or restful or sound as it is with him. So I just lie there in the darkness for a while, feeling the cool evening breeze coming through the cracked window and caressing my face, ruffling up my hair slightly. I imagine Peetas hands touching me instead of the wind and feel my heart quicken. In my head, Peeta lets his hands slide down over my torso, ever so lightly brushing down from my throat to my stomach, without ever really touching my breasts. Again the effect of just this thought in my head startles me and I breathe out loudly. _A sunset, a sunset, a sunset_, I think in the desperate attempt to _not_ think about what Peeta and I might be doing if he wasn't across the street, twenty long meters away. _The color of sunsets, Peetas favorite color. _Sleeping is starting to prove impossible. _Great! This is so stupid._

And I come to a resolution. So I jump out of bed and sneak down the stairs of my house, careful not to wake anyone as I go. As soon as I am out of the door, I almost start running. There is still light in Peetas bedroom. Only just before I reach the stairs, I notice that Haymitch is also still up. He is sitting on the porch of his house, sipping a glass of clear liquid that shimmers faintly in the dim light coming from the windows behind him.

Being caught sneaking over to Peetas in the middle of the night, wearing nothing but my small sleeping tank top and shorts, my hair down, I feel like a deer caught in the headlights of a hovercraft. But I shake it off as I see Haymitch smirking, nodding at me and raising his glass in my direction in a gesture that might be nothing but a friendly greeting between neighbors but might also express a wicked approval. Knowing Haymitch, I assume it to be the latter.

This unexpected encounter makes me hurry to reach Peetas door and I knock self-assuredly. There is a bustle upstairs, and then quick steps come down and near to the door. When he opens and sees me standing there in my unusual attire, his expression is priceless. I'm probably not looking too un-involved myself as I let my eyes drink in the sight of a tousled, surprised Peeta Melaark in nothing but a sleeveless, tight shirt and boxers.

"Hey." He says and it sounds more like a delightfully surprised question than a greeting.

Without saying anything, I fling myself at him and kiss him full on the lips, heatedly and passionately, because my hunger for him is growing with every second. From over the streets, I hear Haymitch whistling, which brings me back to reality. Peeta pulls me into the house and slams the door shut with his foot, never letting me out of his iron tight embrace. And just like that, I can't hold it any longer.

"I love you!" I whisper. "I love you and I can't go to sleep without you."


	8. Chapter 8

**Note: **O.K., that was awkward. Writing a sexy scene in first person, I mean. I do enjoy a really good smut story, but I can never help to feel a little embarrassed writing the dirty stuff. :-D

Thank you for over 100 Story Followers, by the way. I think this is the first story I ever wrote that had more than just a small handful of readers. Also thanks for reviewing so diligently, that made my day! This is going to be the last chapter for now, but maybe I'll come up with some kind of sequel. I don't know yet.

Oh, and sorry for the wait. I had some wedding invitation wording to write and that turned out to be much, _much _more difficult than fan fiction…

**Chapter Eight**

The kisses we share standing there, wrapped in each others' arms, are very different from any kisses we have exchanged before. They are hungry, deep and urgent and full of a passion of to us so far unknown intensity. Never before has there been so much tension in our kisses, never before have I been so hungry to feel his lips on mine. And not just that. I have never before parted my lips for his tongue or explored his hot mouth with mine so curiously and boldly. The heat of it all shoots through my body, warms my belly and pools in a tingling, moist tension in my tiny pyjama shorts. It's startling to feel the effect his lips and hands ,that are up in my hair one moment and stroking my lower backside the other, can have.

"I couldn't sleep either." Peeta whispers vividly in between kisses. "I had to think about you all the time."

"I just had to come over."

"I'm so glad you did." And that's all the conversation we can manage at the moment, being so lost in each others' caresses. Slowly but decisively, Peeta pushes me to move from the hall into his living room, never breaking skin or lip contact. He sinks on his couch and pulls me with him, so that I am now on top of his body. As his hand get more and more daring, lifting the hem of my top and brushing over the naked skin of my ribcage, I too get motivated to invest a little more courage in my exploration of his body. So while I let my hands roam over the soft skin hidden under his shirt, I let the other hand wander down feeling the hard muscles on the outside of his thigh. It earnes me a surprised but delighted hiss.

As if I had broken an unspoken rule of lower bodies being off limits, I feel Peeta respond to my touch almost immediately as he directs one of his hands to travel from my lower back, deeper, over my butt, just to come to rest right under the rounding, in the place where my tiny shorts run out of fabric. At this intimate touch, I feel an increase of tension between my legs that is so sudden and intense that it almost hurts and I acknowledge it to Peeta by biting the delicate flesh of his neck carefully.

"Ow, Katniss!" his voice sounds playful rather than angry.

When Peeta pushed his hand under the fabric of my shorts and cups the curve hidden there with a big, strong hand and I shift slightly on his body to give him better access, I feel his erection hard against the spot in which our lower bodies touch and I know a line has been crossed. I have learned all about these things in school in a clinical, mellow way, but I have never anticipated it to be this good, this intense, this _beautiful_.

I have heard other girls my age talking about it, chatting about how "hot" this or that guy is, considering if they should "do it" or not, talking about "being ready" or "not being ready" to "give it up".

All these things have never mattered to me, although there was a time when I thought they might one day when I fell in love. But now that I am here in this Situation with _him_, I find they really don't matter. There are no questions like this left for me. This hot, lustful sensation I have leaves me no room to evaluate about ready or not ready, about waiting or doing it, about right or wrong. This kind of struggle is for normal teenagers with normal relationships, but we are not that. There is nothing normal about us. We have been at each others' side in the believe that at some point we might have to kill each other, we have striven to protect our own and others lives. We have sacrificed, we have pretended, we have fought, we have survived.

These thoughts are not for people who have been trough what we have been through together, who have not experienced what we have experienced together. After all this, we are too close not to be ready to fall for each other completely, to give ourselves to each other in any way possible. There is no question for me about that anymore.

From the hypnotized way Peeta stares into my eyes, I can tell that he has been at this point long before I have. He has been at terms with his feeling for me so long, while I still struggled and wavered. He looks at me as though it is almost impossible for him to grasp the fact that it is finally about to happen. That I am finally about to be his.

So when we agree to take this upstairs and he takes me by the hand gently, leading me into his bedroom and pushing me down tenderly on the soft, cool sheets of his bed, there is no awkwardness between us, no fear. The moment is perfect.

Although I came over here because I could not fall asleep without him, we do not sleep one minute this night. As our bodies merge together for the first time it is careful and slow and for me the unfamiliar pressure is so strange, that I can't quite reach the relieve I long for before Peeta gasps with pleasure and his body, hovering over mine, trembles violently.

The second time is different. Much bolder, deeper and more passionate. And this time I am much more comfortable with the feeling of him moving inside of me. Soon it pushes me over the edge and I experience an explosion of sensations shooting through my whole body.

It takes both of us some time to recover from this and we lie there in darkness, tangled up in the sheets and each other' arms. I have noticed before how I like the way Peeta smells when he is slightly sweaty. It sounds strange and just a little disgusting even to myself as this crosses my mind, but it is true. His warm, doughy scent is spiced a little with a salty but not unpleasant whiff that reminds me of the first nights he held me in his arms. Once again I can't help but think that this is what home smells like to me, so I press my face to his chest and lose myself in this intoxicating fragrance. I'd like to bottle it and wear nothing else for the rest of my life. _Creepy again, Katniss._

"Katniss?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry." I mumble dreamily. A low chuckle rumbles in Peetas chest.

"Can I just say something that might seem a little forward to you?" his voice is almost a whisper. I prop my head on my elbow and wonder about what he is going to say. He gives me a bashful half-smile.

"Ok, I'm just going get it out. Katniss, I hated it when I had to leave and go to my empty house earlier today. And somehow I don't like the idea of not seeing you next to me every morning when I get up or every night when I go to sleep. I feel that, after everything, we are way past that stage of me ringing your doorbell and asking your Mom if you could come out to play."

For a moment I am confused.

"So, what are you saying?"

"I'm just asking if, maybe, you want to stay with me a little more, um… permanently." He looks seriously nervous now, and I find it a little adorable, all the while still being nervous and bewildered myself.

"Are you asking me to move in with you?" I blurt out more bluntly than I intended to. His expression at my surprised reaction changes from a hesitant smile to sheer horror.

"Well, of course you don't have to if you don't feel comfortable…" he trails off a little helplessly.

Do I feel comfortable? When he left today it felt just plain wrong. He is right. It seems strange that we should have this normal kind of a relationship that people our age have, seeing each other in the afternoons and then going to our separate homes, to our families. Peeta has become part of my family.

"Actually, I think you're right. I don't want to have to sneak over to your place every night from now on. And I surely don't want to stay in my own bed alone." I say, not looking at him but my eyes cast down timidly on the place where my hand is resting on his chest.

"Haymitch would surely appreciate the show every night!" he chuckles and after a pause whispers "So, does that mean you're saying yes?"

"I think so."

The way he expresses his happiness and gratitude at my answer is even different from the two times we have consummated our love before this night. Both of us know what we are doing now and what the other person seems to like, although I am looking forward to finding out more about that for the rest of my life. I even feel comfortable and daring enough to make him be the one who is lying back, while I take over control.

As the eastern Horizon is starting to turn a pale pink, we are still lying next to each other wide awake, talking about how I am going to break the news to my mother, who, I think, is not going to be too happy. Over the years of me taking care of the family and especially over the hard times of the Games she has learned to let me make my own decisions. She does not get involved when it comes to the things I do or decide. In don't worry a bit about Prim, though. She will be happy and sad at the same time, but totally fine with whatever I choose to do.

Outside the world brightens up quickly a diffuse, warm glow rises over the woods in the east and illuminates the rooftops of Victors Village. Strangely I don't feel tired at all, even though I have not slept one minute this night and the day before had been rather eventful. Instead, I stretch out in bed a bit longer while I watch Peeta getting up and dressed, heading down to prepare some breakfast for us. I think about everything that has happened this night and how weirdly changed and still the same I feel, both at a time. It also crosses my mind how grateful I am to Haymitch, who had come up with the (back then rather embarrassing and wasteful) idea of getting me to have an infusion for birth control the day Effie commented on Peeta and me sharing a bed on the Victory Tour. I briefly consider dropping a hint to him as to how thankful I am later, but soon dismiss the idea, imagining the smug expression on his face, the inquiring raising of his eyebrows and the saucy comments and inappropriate questions that I'm sure would follow.

So instead I just crawl back into my pyjama pants and put on one of Peetas shirts and follow the delicious smell of fresh bread that waves up from the kitchen. Peeta is standing behind his kitchen stove, handling a pan. While he chats something about not having had the time to shop for any fresh groceries, I just watch him there in the morning light and can't believe that this is going to be my life from now on. No more worries about starving, no more fear of the Reaping or losing someone I love in the Games.

"I had some flour, so I made a pan bread dough. You wouldn't believe how delicious it is with honey! It's really just flour, a pinch of salt and sugar and water, but baked in the pan until it has a nice, brown color, it makes a great breakfast."

"Yeah, it smells great." I respond just in time to not make him notice how lost in my inspection of his naked upper body in the golden glow of morning sunlight I am. But I mean it. It smells great. It's nice and fresh and it's the smell of someone making breakfast for me. It's the smell of something I will always have now. It's the smell of home.

**End.**


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